


After the Fall

by claudia603



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003)
Genre: Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-06 09:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/52079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/pseuds/claudia603
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Frodo recovers from a fall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	After the Fall

Frodo squinted against the bright sunlight that streamed in  
the window. He pulled his covers to his chin. In bed in the  
House of Healing again. Something had happened, though he  
could not remember much at all. The last memory he had was  
of enjoying a walk in the fine spring weather of Minas  
Tirith. He had seen Prince Faramir, and he had waved, eager  
to talk to the Man, but after that he could not remember  
anything. Something was wrapped around his foot and he saw  
that his foot was propped on a pillow, elevated above the  
other. Suddenly another memory assailed him, of Aragorn  
forcing him to swallow some hot but vile-tasting liquid down  
his throat when his head and foot throbbed with fierce  
agony. He had been furious at the new king of Gondor for  
adding to his misery. Frodo's hand crept up to the bandage  
that he felt around his brow. Touching the wound caused it  
to flare with pain, and he quickly withdrew his hand.

He remembered now.

He could not believe his evil luck. He had been enjoying a  
fine walk, feeling better than he had since the end of the  
quest, and eager for a familiar face, he was glad when he  
saw Faramir at the bottom of a spiral of stone steps. He  
called out to Faramir in greeting, and Faramir grinned and  
beckoned for him to join him. Before Frodo knew what was  
happening, he was tumbling out of control down the steps.  
Something wrenched his ankle, but he blacked out before he  
could feel more pain.

Aragorn stepped into the room. "I'm glad to see you're  
awake, dear Frodo, though I had hoped to be here when you  
did so as to make certain you do not move that ankle."

"Is it broken?" Frodo did not dare move at all, for fear of  
causing the ankle to throb. For the moment, it did not hurt  
at all, and he did not want anything to change that.

"You twisted it in your fall, but thankfully, it is not  
broken. We were more concerned with the knock on your head.  
You should have seen how pale and anxious Faramir was when  
he brought you here – he thought you had survived your quest  
only to die at the bottom of a flight of steps."

Frodo smiled in contentment, snuggling in his blanket. "I  
do not feel much pain right now. I've got a bit of a  
headache."

"That will fade soon. I am sorry, but I must give you more  
of the tea that you fought so hard against last night."

"Oh, dear." Frodo looked at Aragorn. "Are you certain?"

"Yes, unless you want that ankle to start hurting again  
soon."

"I suppose I must then," Frodo said with a sigh. He tried  
to scoot his body without moving his foot so that he was  
sitting up, propped against the pillows. A wild dizziness  
overtook him, and he froze, clutching his blanket with a  
grimace of pain. Aragorn gripped him by his shoulders and  
eased him back into a lying position.

"Frodo, you cannot move yet. Just stay still."

Frodo did not answer as the room spun out of control. He  
clutched at Aragorn's hands, desperate for any anchor  
against the wild spinning. He tried to close his eyes, but  
that only made it worse. Finally, it slowed and stabilized,  
and he dared to open his eyes again. "There now," he said  
with a nervous laugh. "That's better. I'm sorry, Aragorn."

Aragorn shook his head. "You do not need to be sorry. I  
just do not want you to move much at all for another day.  
By tomorrow your head should be in much better shape. Now  
swallow this." Aragorn tilted Frodo's chin so that the  
hobbit could swallow the vile tea. Frodo tried not to smell  
it. He tried to pretend it was the cinnamon tea Bilbo used  
to fix for him long ago in Bag End. He gagged on the first  
swallow, but Aragorn rubbed his back soothingly and waited  
for him to be ready to swallow more. He gulped the rest  
down before he could taste anything.

"Good, good," Aragorn said, adjusting the blankets on  
Frodo's bed. "Much better than last night."

"All right, that is done," Frodo said and grimaced at the  
memory of the vile tea. He took in a deep breath and asked,  
"Where is Sam?"

"He hardly left your side last night, so I sent him to  
sleep."

"Bless him," Frodo murmured, closing his eyes. "Even now he  
cannot leave my side."

Aragorn smiled and put his hand on Frodo's brow. "Sleep  
now."

Frodo did not answer. He had already slipped into a content  
sleep.

  


END  



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